Indestructible
by Dragovian Knight
Summary: Nineteen years ago, the shutdown of FLAG left the Knight Industries Two Thousand in government hands. Now, someone has found a use for him. Selectively combines canon from Knight Rider, Knight Rider 2008, and TKR. Formatting problems have been fixed.
1. Predator

He glided through the night, a sleek black predator in the shape of a classic Trans Am. His target was minutes away, his mission clear, even if the only data in his possession was an address and a desired outcome. He could speculate as to what the men in the nondescript warehouse had done to run afoul of those he served, but it was irrelevant.

He had his orders. He would obey them.

His sensor light sped up slightly as he gathered maximum information about the building he was racing toward, calculating weak points, finding the best area to strike. Behind the walls, he could detect multiple life signs; he would deny, even to himself, taking them into consideration when he selected the section of wall he would turbo boost through, but somehow, the area was clear when he burst into the building.

He locked his brakes, skidding in a semi-circle on the smooth concrete floor. Men and women swarmed the room, some fleeing, some opening fire with automatic weapons. Bullets reflected from his impenetrable shell, harmless to him, but not to those few who fell to the ricochets.

For long seconds he was motionless, scanners seeking the large shipping containers which were his primary target. Then he moved, tires screaming for purchase at his sudden acceleration.

One of the armed men scrambling out of the way of his sudden charge fell, and for a split second he slowed, torn between old programming and new, sub-processors offering up half a dozen avenues to avoid the man, primary processor calculating the damage he could do his target if he turbo boosted-

Now.

He smashed into one of the crates, coming out the far side enveloped in flames from the explosives which had been concealed within. Again, old programming warred with new, his systems screaming alarms about the threat to himself, the threat to those in the area.

His orders superseded all of it.

Flames flickering along his unmarked sides, he skidded into a turn and charged toward the remaining crates, accelerating to his maximum speed. He struck container after container, assisted along by the explosions in his wake, until he smashed through a wall and into the quiet night.

His sheer speed extinguished the fire clinging to him as he returned to the scheduled rendezvous point. Briefly, he accessed his sensor records of the warehouse - thirty-seven people had been in the warehouse at the time of the explosions - then shunted the information aside as irrelevant except for his final report.

A heavily encoded signal opened the gate which loomed before him, and he slowed as he entered the compound. A second signal afforded him entry to a small garage, as unremarkable - from the outside - as the warehouse he had raided earlier in the evening.

Within, technicians swarmed around him, hooking him to systems nearly as state of the art as himself. He fed them information on his system status, on the raid, but his primary attention was on the far door.

He was rewarded in moments by the arrival of a tall man, dressed in a military uniform. This was the man who had found him when he was no more than an abandoned project, bullied the government into rebuilding him, given him a sense of purpose and the programming to fulfill that purpose. He owed the General both his life and his loyalty.

The General was smiling, even without reading his reports; of them all, only the General always had faith in him. He revved his engine softly as the man laid a hand on his hood.

"Well done as always, KITT." 


	2. Awakening

He had been stored in the warehouse for so long, no contact, no sound, not even light. His remaining systems - the ones not disconnected to prevent his escape - had shut down in self preservation long ago, but even so, he retained enough awareness of his surroundings to know when the great doors were rolled back.

He didn't have the energy reserves to react when a winch was attached to his undercarriage and he was dragged into the back of a truck - _a semi, I remember a semi, Bonnie?_ - sealed back into darkness, and taken away.

Later, there was a confusion of lights and sounds, as long disused and degraded systems tried to adjust to the return of sensation. He heard snatches of conversation, words he could record but not process.

_Dump the computer, we just need the shell. No one's been able to reproduce that formula reliably._

_With respect, dumping the computer would be the worst thing you could do._

_That's thirty year old technology. We can install Graiman's..._

_Twenty years before Charles Graiman even __**thought**__ about producing an AI, Wilton Knight had a system that was elegant, adaptive, and self-aware. You will never match the computer in the Knight Two Thousand._

A long pause; his awareness began flickering out again.

_Sir._

Something in the tone sparked memory: the way the word had been delivered, an afterthought that transformed it into an insult.

"Mi...chael?"

His voice wavered; he attempted, and failed, to adjust the voice modulator. Then he wondered why he had bothered. Michael had abandoned him years before, before the darkness and silence.

_That thing's __**awake**__?_

_The system is mostly dormant. This is the first reaction we've gotten from it._

Excitement in the voice, and another spark of memory. _Bonnie_. But Bonnie was gone, and the voice was male; it couldn't be Bonnie.

"KITT? Can you hear me?"

The effort to respond seemed too great, and for long seconds - or perhaps time was still dilating in ways his processors couldn't compensate for - he didn't answer. Then, still in that slurred, damaged voice, so unlike the one he had carefully cultivated, "I hear you."

"Brilliant!"

Hands on his shell, where his sensors could barely feel them, and then the people who surrounded him, swarmed through the room at a distance, were poking and prodding. He was hooked up to something, and an outside computer queried his systems, attempted to override...

Programming as deep-seated as instinct flared to life, and defensive measures jumped into action before KITT was even aware he still had the capability to defend himself. He felt a surge of energy into his systems, and abruptly, for the first time in over twenty years, he was fully awake.

"Who are you?" Now he managed to adjust his voice, fine tuning it back into a semblance of the one he had crafted for himself; the modulator was damaged, and the tone was flat, tinny, but it would do. "Where am I?"

There was a shout of delight from the man currently under his hood, and KITT decided this must be the one who had spoken against dumping his system - his _self_ - and keeping only the shell of the car. The others were at a distance, now, with only one tall man in an Army uniform focused on KITT. His insignia identified him as a three star general.

"Where am I?" he insisted. He tried his ignition, but several systems were still disconnected; the major functions of the car were outside of his control. He could speak and observe, but he couldn't act.

No, a quick diagnostic confirmed, that was not entirely true.

For a split second, he questioned the wisdom of alienating the one person who had spoken in his defense, then he activated his horn; the man under his hood jumped, smacking his head and swearing. It was, KITT thought with a little pride, the sort of thing Michael would have done.

"Shut that thing off!" the technician bellowed.

KITT overrode the computer command which followed the man's order, managing to increase the volume a few decibels before his horn was physically disconnected.

"So," the general said; his voice, slow and amused, drowned out the mechanic's angry cursing. "Jeremy wasn't exaggerating your capabilities. And it seems there's some fight in you yet."

"What do you want?"

"A great many things. And you are the key to most of them."

"I see no reason why I should help you with anything."

"Don't you? You'd still be locked up in storage, rotting away, without me."

KITT said nothing.

The general strolled a slow circle around him, then stopped at parade rest, directly in front of his primary scanner. "Who am I, KITT?"

Warily, KITT used his connection to the computer system nearest him to reach out. The world's information infrastructure had almost caught up with him, he discovered; there was data, so much data, and he filed away as much as he could for later perusal, even as he sought out military data banks, compared file photos with the man standing before him.

In just a few moments, he answered, "Your name is General Marcus Hammond. You were born in..."

Bright energy seared through him, blanking the data he had just accessed from his memory banks, making him forget why he had even cared to access it. "You are the General," he said, because that was the only thing that was relevant. "You are the one who had me reactivated."

He owed the General his life, his loyalty. It was a truth he couldn't begin to question.

The General smiled, seeming satisfied with his answer. "Very good, KITT. And I am glad to welcome you to the service of the United States Armed Forces."

"Thank you, General." Something about that seemed wrong - he had never been built as a military device, had he? A weapon? - but for the moment he couldn't seem to question what he was being told. He stored the questions, though; he would think about this all later, when there were fewer people about to distract him, when his slowed systems could give the answers the time and processing power he needed.

"Jeremy here will bring you back up to speed. I trust you will cooperate with him."

The system to which they had connected him was still attempting to overwhelm his central core; he doubted he could do much _but _cooperate. "Of course, General."

"Jeremy, take special care of our new recruit."

Jeremy, still rubbing his head where he'd hit it on KITT's hood, muttered something unintelligible, and KITT remembered how often he had counseled Michael against pointless acts of defiance which served only to anger his captors.

It was not a comforting thought.


	3. Then and Now

_**THEN: MARCH, 1991**_

"You okay?" Michael asked.

Bonnie turned her attention from the drab scenery outside KITT's passenger window to look at him. "As can be expected, after dealing with that bunch of vultures."

Michael reached over, patting her hand. He was grateful he and Bonnie had been able to share their grief in private, because Devon's funeral had turned out to be a nightmare of politicians, FLAG officials, and people Michael didn't know or want to, all more interested in seeing and being seen than in paying their respects to the man who had almost single-handedly kept FLAG running for the past decade.

"Michael, if I may interrupt," KITT said, his voice subdued, "there seems to be an undue amount of activity around Foundation Headquarters."

"Great," Michael muttered under his breath. "Bonnie, we can detour, drop you off at your apartment..."

"No. If something's going on, I want to know what."

There were numerous dark vehicles parked along the curving drive of the estate, and far too many dark suited men for Michael's liking. "Keep your scanners peeled, KITT," he murmured as they got out. The almost inaudible swish of KITT's primary scanner sped up, indicating his compliance.

A man stopped him at the foot of the main building's steps. "Mr. Knight? Miss Barstow?"

"I'm Michael Knight."

"Agent Perkins." The man flashed a badge, and Michael neatly took it from him before he could put it away. It looked, unfortunately, legitimate.

"What's going on here?" Michael repeated after he'd studied the badge long enough for Perkins to become visibly irritated.

"The Foundation operates under a government charter. In light of the death of Mr. Miles, Foundation operations are being suspended pending an audit of your policies and practices, after which a new head will be appointed."

"Suspended? You can't do that."

"I'm afraid we can. Your services will no longer be required, unless and until you're reinstated." He turned his attention to Bonnie. "Likewise, Miss Barstow, since you were brought in to keep the Knight Industries Two Thousand operational, your services will not be required unless and until the vehicle, or another vehicle, is placed back in service."

"And what happens to KITT?" Michael demanded, before Bonnie could.

"The vehicle will be impounded until such time as its continued value to the program has been determined."

"You're not taking my car."

A small sheaf of paperwork emerged from the man's suit coat. "Mr. Knight, it is not _your_ car."

"Michael." Bonnie's hand on his back stopped him from saying anything else. "Let's take KITT to the garage."

Michael shot Perkins a final glare. "This isn't over."

"Mr. Knight, it can be over far sooner than you would imagine possible, if you don't cooperate."

Michael almost retorted, but Bonnie's grip on the back of his jacket tightened. He looked down at her, then motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to see two men converging on KITT.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Let's go take KITT to the garage."

He strode across the drive, reaching KITT just as one of the men reached for the car's door. "I'll just put him away for you," Michael said, smoothly shouldering the man aside. The brief exchange gave Bonnie the few seconds she needed to catch up, and she neatly interposed herself between KITT and the man on his passenger side.

"Michael," KITT said when they were both safely inside, "what's going on?"

"I don't know, but I plan to find out."

"This is what Devon was working on, before..." Bonnie's voice broke. "I knew it was something huge, but I didn't know...Michael, we can't let them shut us down."

"No, we can't," Michael said. KITT's engine purred to life, and the car slid smoothly around the drive. "And we won't."

Over the following days, though, the temptation to give Perkins what he wanted and just leave grew almost overwhelming. He was, for all intents and purposes, confined to the guest cottage where he normally stayed between missions, without even his commlink. Bonnie had more opportunity to investigate what was going on from her apartment than he had right in the thick of things, and the frustration of not being free to act was compounded by not daring to speak free openly to her on the phone.

But Michael Knight had never been a man who could simply walk away from a problem. Perhaps more importantly, he had never been a man who could walk away from a friend.

The garage, normally well lit and occupied by numerous technicians when KITT was present, stood dark and silent. Michael fumbled for a light switch; when he found it, it was...almost worse, seeing KITT alone in the middle of the harsh overhead glare.

"Michael?"

"Hey, pal. Sorry I haven't been out to see you the past few days."

"I'm sure you aren't supposed to be here now."

"No, not exactly. But I wanted to see you, and since you haven't swung by for a visit... "

"They've disconnected several of my major systems, Michael. I can't move." He paused, then added wryly, "My sensors are working fine, though, and you should probably leave via the back way."

Michael winced; he thought he'd been more careful than that. "I promise, KITT, I will get to the bottom of this."

"I know you will, Michael."

Michael never quite forgave himself that his last words to his partner were a lie.

_**THEN: MAY, 1992**_

"Michael..." He could hear the tears in Bonnie's voice. "It's over."

Michael's hand gripped the phone harder. "What do you mean, over? KITT..."

"KITT's gone. They...he's been disassembled. The shell was destroyed, along with the CPU."

"Are you sure? Maybe..."

"The photos accompanying the report were very...graphic."

Michael closed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because they couldn't use him. His primary programming..."

"They wanted him as a weapon."

She made a tiny, affirmative noise that was more a sob than anything else. "They couldn't break him, so they killed him instead."

"Who?"

"Does it matter? We can't do anything about it, Michael. It's too late."

And she was right. They couldn't do anything to help KITT, and without KITT...it wasn't even like they could get revenge.

Michael wished Bonnie wasn't three states away, wished she hadn't had to break this news to him over the phone. They should have faced this together, he should have been able to hold her while she cried, comfort her over KITT's loss.

And, he admitted, as tears streamed down his own face, he could have used some comfort himself.

_**NOW: APRIL, 2009**_

When Michael opened his email to photos – blurry stills, frames from security cameras, some of them side by side with computer enhancements – he initially suspected some kind of April Fool's joke. All of the photos looked like crap, but you could still tell they were all of a black sports car, one that, if you squinted, just might be an early 80s T-Top.

Michael would have deleted them all if they hadn't been from Bonnie. The two of them had drifted apart since their failure to rescue KITT, keeping in touch via cards at Christmas and each others' birthdays, when they remembered, and more recently – since Michael had stopped resenting every computer he encountered for not being KITT – via email. As it was, he left them and came back to them for hours before finally reading the attachments that came with them: news reports, police reports, even a couple of FBI reports that Bonnie couldn't possibly have gotten legally.

A few of the photos had an odd red reflection where KITT's sensor light would have been.

By the time he was done, it was nearly midnight. He grabbed his cell, dialing the number he knew by heart from all the times he hadn't called it.

She answered on the first ring.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Bonnie's voice shook, reminding him forcibly of their last conversation; his throat tightened in sympathy. "But I think we need to find out."


	4. Discovery

"You know, we only have like, two frames of footage from a low-end security camera on this one," Zoe said.

"I know, but if we can enhance...oh, hi Mike." Billy looked him over. "Another late night?

Mike grunted affirmative and yawned. "What are you two up to?"

Being only half awake didn't keep him from noticing the slightly guilty look the pair shared. "Just trying to enhance some security camera footage," Billy said, moving one hand to blank the screen.

"Billy, you'd better not be tapping into that bar cam that looks down women's shirts," Sarah said, coming up behind Mike; he turned and stared longingly at her giant coffee mug. "Come on, let me see what you're up to."

"Oh, like I'd be helping him with the boobie cam," Zoe muttered, rolling her eyes.

"It's just a car," Billy said. "It's been reported at a few...accidents."

"Accidents," Mike repeated.

"Accidents that weren't accidents, you mean." Sarah was definitely too awake for this hour of the morning.

Billy rolled his shoulders in a quasi-shrug. "Maybe. Some of them have been a little..."

"Freaky," Zoe finished for him.

"Okay. I'm still waiting to see what you've come up with."

Images began to fill the monitors, grainy stills and brief segments of video footage, some of which were nearly impossible to make out. Text, too, some of it actual computer documents and some scans of paper reports. Mike ignored those, staring at one video in particular, a few seconds on a continual loop that clearly showed a flash of red between the headlights. "That's KITT!"

"Mike, what are you..." Sarah began, with a glance over her shoulder to where the Mustang sat.

"My dad's car. Come on, Sarah, you spent more time going over those files than I did." The original incarnation of KITT had been a draw despite the fact he hated his father's guts; no wonder he'd jumped - well, he assumed he'd jumped, he didn't actually remember - at the KARR project when it was offered. "Billy, bring up file footage of the Knight Industries Two Thousand."

A few seconds later, footage - higher quality, but nearly as grainy with age as some of the security tapes - was pulled up on the screen, showing a black Trans Am slamming through the side of a building, cutting to the same car racing around a test track. The red sensor light on the nose was only visible from a few angles, but the resemblance was undeniable.

"That isn't possible," Sarah protested. She reached over Billy's shoulder, bringing the text files up to dominate the screen. "This car has _killed_. Multiple times. The preservation of human life was part of KITT's most basic programming." She lowered her voice, "That was one of the first things the government wanted us to tone down when we built our KITT."

"Does that mean I'm a natural born killer, Sarah?" KITT asked.

Mike smirked. "You should have programmed in an anti-eavesdropping protocol."

Sarah shot Mike a glare. "No, KITT, it doesn't," she called over her shoulder. Then, in a lower voice despite the fact KITT had just demonstrated that was pointless, "No more making him watch movies with you, buster."

"Hey, it was his idea."

"I thought the original KITT was dis...umm, decommissioned," Zoe said.

"Zoe, I am perfectly aware that my predecessor was dismantled," KITT said.

Zoe shrugged a little. "See if I try to spare your feelings again."

"KITT doesn't have feelings," Sarah said. Under her breath, she added, "That was the second thing the government insisted we change."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "Are we back to that song and dance again?"

"We aren't having this conversation right now." Sarah turned back to the computer screens with a frown. "When did this car start showing up, and where has it been most active?"

"Couple months ago, and all over the southwest. Of course, those are just the attacks we know about." Billy looked up at them. "I'd have said something, but," he spread his hands at the scant information on the screens, "this isn't exactly definitive."

"No, but it's something to look into. Zoe, I want you to organize everything we already have on this mystery car. Billy, see what you can find out about the Knight Industries Two Thousand, and look for any anomalies that might indicate it wasn't destroyed. KITT, you go through news broadcasts, police reports, blogs, anything you can think of that might give us more information on this car."

"What do you want me to do?" Mike asked.

Sarah looked at him, then down at the mug in her hand. "You could make us more coffee."

* * *

"Explain to me again why we're wasting this much effort on an outdated bucket of bolts?" Billy asked hours later as he hacked his way into the heart of the Pentagon computer.

"Because the car's hot?" Zoe suggested.

"And because looking into this was your idea in the first place?" Sarah said pointedly, not raising her eyes from the report Zoe had sent her an hour before.

"Besides, the original KITT is like our KITT's father," Mike added.

"Michael, cars do not have families, so it is impossible for this car to be my..." KITT began.

"In fact, I think we should start calling our car Junior. You know, just to tell them apart when we get our hands on Two Thousand," Mike continued, ignoring KITT.

It might have been his imagination, but he thought KITT's sensor light moved just a little faster, and smugly chalked it up to annoyance.

"Oh, look at the money trail," Billy said a few moments later. "That's not suspicious at all. And it looks like..." His voice trailed off, though his typing didn't slow. The rest of them gathered around him. "Yep, looks like it leads right to..."

The screen went dark, and for a moment Mike thought Billy had been locked out. Then he realized he was seeing security camera footage of a darkened room - could have been anything from an airline hangar to a warehouse to an abandoned basement - and a solitary black car directly in the center of the camera's view.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Billy said, "meet the Knight Industries Two Thousand."

* * *

The computer beeped, and Michael blinked blearily at the screen. The whole thing had gone to map mode, and there was a blinking red light indicating...

KITT. Oh god, KITT was moving for the first time in weeks, and he'd nearly slept through it.

He pushed himself away from the table and stumbled into the bedroom. Bonnie was asleep on her side, her hair half hiding her face; he felt guilty for waking her.

He'd feel worse if he didn't wake her, and they missed another chance to get KITT.

"Hey, Bonnie." He nudged her shoulder gently, and received an inarticulate response. "The computer's doing something."

"Define something," Bonnie mumbled.

"I think it's got a lock on KITT."

She shoved his hand away and rolled over, moving faster than he would have thought possible for someone coming out of a dead sleep, and he trailed her into the living room. In the dim light from the monitor she looked like crap, Michael thought; she hadn't been sleeping any more than he had, and neither of them were as young as they used to be.

And she, even more than he, was hurting over their inability to get through the security measures now surrounding KITT, and contact him.

Bonnie's hands flew over the keyboard; her gaze fixed on the monitor with such intensity that Michael half suspected she was trying to reach KITT telepathically as much as technologically. He watched her, rather than the indecipherable stream of information scrolling past, because he could read her where he couldn't read it.

He knew she'd been beaten before she actually gave up and let her fingers go still on the keys.

"No luck?" he said, needlessly, just to break the silence.

She shook her head, and he moved behind her, hands dropping onto her shoulders. He kneaded at the tension he found a the back of her neck. "You okay?"

"Michael, KITT's out there killing people. Of course I'm not okay."

"Maybe it's not KITT."

"Well it sure as hell isn't KARR."

"No, I mean..." He broke off when he felt her stiffen beneath his hands, and decided he didn't want to hear that possibility spoken out loud, either. "You'll get him, Bonnie," he said a moment later. "Nobody knows him like you do. You'll get him."

* * *

"Oh my god," Bonnie gasped, rousing Michael from the half doze he'd fallen into.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong." There was a level of excitement in her voice that he hadn't heard in far too long. "I think I'm in!"

"You've contacted KITT?"

"No, he's not...there's something blocking me from him. But I've accessed the most basic system controls." She was leaning over the keyboard, her gaze intent on the screen. "We won't lose his tracking signal when he deactivates now; I can force it to stay on."

"Which is fine unless whoever has him notices."

"It won't be giving out a constant signal; there's no reason they should notice at the rate I'm setting it for."

"I hope not. The last thing we need is to have to start over."

"Don't worry; I'm setting up some back doors into the system now. Even if they do notice the homing signal, I'll be able to get back in and reactivate it."

"Unless they notice those, too."

Bonnie turned to give him a frown. "Michael, _nobody_ knows KITT's systems like I do. The only way they're shutting me out completely is if they strip the computer and reprogram him from the bottom up."

"And if they do that..."

"If they do that, there won't be any KITT to rescue."

Michael nodded, a sudden lump in his throat. They'd theorized about that when the black Trans Am first started making appearances on the news, and it was only when Bonnie finally managed a brief entry into the system - the one where she'd managed to reactivate KITT's homing beacon, at least during those brief periods when he was active - that they'd had any sort of assurance KITT was still himself. Despite the layers of programming keeping Bonnie from getting through to the AI, at some basic level, the system was the one she'd spent so many hours perfecting.

And that meant KITT was somewhere in there, just waiting to be rescued.

They'd both moved to California and settled into an apartment together, where Bonnie had built her old computer into a system customized to interface with KITT. And since then, they'd mostly waited, grabbing sleep when they had no choice, neither willing to miss any opportunity, no matter how slight.

"What do we do when we know where he is?" Michael hated asking the question. This was the first time he'd felt any hope this would all work; everything until now had been penance, something he had to do for the partner he'd abandoned - against his will, but abandoned nonetheless - rather than something he believed would bear fruit.

"We'll decide that when we have more information. He could be in anyone's hands; every official record of him insists he was destroyed. There's no way of tracking who actually has him."

And no way of knowing whether the fear neither would admit to, the fear Michael knew haunted them both, was reality: that KITT was so far out of their reach nothing they did would make a difference.

* * *

The Knight Industries Two Thousand hadn't moved in the weeks since they'd discovered the car still existed, so when the computer alarm sounded, it took everyone a few minutes to figure out what it was for. Realization struck them all at nearly the same time, and Billy and Zoe engaged in a brief battle to see which of them would get to the computer first.

"Got it," Zoe said, shoving Billy's chair out of the way. "Satellites are detecting movement around the hangar Two Thousand's in."

Billy pushed his way back to the computer and settled in a the other work station. "Better than that. Looks like there's some sort of homing beacon when the car's active."

"So we can track him," Sarah said.

The screen split between actual satellite images of the darkened streets, and a map graphic with a blinking red light marking the beacon's location. Billy whistled. "He's really moving. Has to be more than a joy ride."

"How fast can we intercept?" Mike asked, already on his way to KITT.

"Depends on how good I am at projecting a course," Billy replied.

Mike jogged over to KITT's side. "Come on, Junior, let's go save Daddy from himself."

KITT didn't answer. Mike pulled on the door handle, but the door remained locked.

"KITT, this is no time for games."

"I am not playing, Michael."

"What do you want?"

"An apology. What else?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry I called you Junior. Okay? Now come on, we have a tight schedule here."

The door popped open...grudgingly. _No emotions my ass_, Mike thought as he slid in, though he knew better than to say anything but, "Billy send you the projected course?"

"Yes, and I have identified our most likely meeting point as being here." The HUD lit up with the map graphic, one intersection pulsing with a white circle.

"Well okay then, Junior, let's get moving!"

KITT's engine roared to life, but he said, "I recognize we have a job to do now, but it seems only fair to warn you that you will pay for that, Michael."

"Okay, fine. No more Junior."

"Thank you."

"At least," Mike smirked, "not until Daddy moves in with us."


	5. Capture

KITT streaked toward the coordinates the General had programmed into him. It seemed he should have been analyzing his data on the target, devising strategies, but these days, he was given little data beyond the identity of his target, and the only necessary strategy was a simple one: strike quickly, and escape. Given the limitations of those who would stop him, his missions required only a fraction of his processor power.

Once, he would have taken the opportunity to analyze the gigabytes of raw data he had collected since being reactivated, but the General preferred he not waste energy on frivolous pursuits.

The courthouse which stood at the programmed coordinates should have been empty at this hour, but a scan revealed lights still on inside, and the heat signatures of three adult males. KITT pulled over to the curb, as far from the streetlights as he could get, and shut down his main scanner; his secondary systems would suffice for this, and with the scanner's red light deadened he knew his position would render him nearly invisible to a human's limited senses.

The sensor echo took him completely by surprise.

For entire seconds, he didn't react. The sensor echo was unlike anything he had ever detected, yet his processors linked it to the Knight Industries prototype vehicle, to an enormous black semi, to _danger._

All of his systems came up to full power in nanoseconds, straining to locate the source of the strange reading.

* * *

"I believe I have located the Knight Two Thousand, Michael."

Mike looked at the map KITT displayed for his benefit. "Why would it be parked outside an empty courthouse?"

"The logical hypothesis is that it's waiting for someone."

"So I guess we need to interrupt." Mike pressed down the accelerator. "How's traffic between here and there?"

"The streets are clear."

"That's just what I wanted to hear. Keep an eye on that thing; I don't want to get there and find out it moved."

It took only minutes to reach the location where KITT had detected the other car; Mike skidded around the last corner, and was confronted by a blaze of headlights and the unmistakable tracking red light of a scanner just before they sailed cleanly overhead.

"Son of a bitch!" He hit the brakes, skidding KITT around a hundred and eighty degrees to give chase. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I'm afraid the maneuver took me by surprise, as well, Michael."

"I've gotta get Sarah to program you sneakier. Where's it heading?"

"The freeway."

"Tell me you're kidding." Day or night, California freeways were crowded; pursuit at the kinds of speeds the two Knight Industries cars could reach would be risky at best.

* * *

"What the hell?" Bonnie murmured.

"What's up?"

"KITT was stationary for nearly an hour, and now...the speeds he's hitting have to indicate some sort of pursuit."

"Well, it's not like they're going to catch him." Michael squeezed her shoulder. "We'll get another chance."

"You don't understand. There's no reason for KITT to be moving this fast unless he's being pursued by something comparable to him."

"There is nothing comparable to him."

"That we know of."

* * *

"If the Knight Two Thousand's programming to preserve human life has been removed, continued pursuit may result in civilian casualties," KITT echoed Mike's thoughts as they reached the freeway on ramp.

Ahead, Mike watched the Trans Am signal and smoothly merge into traffic, slowing even though it had to know they were right behind it. "I have a hunch that won't be a problem."

"Do you have a basis for your hunch?"

"In every attack so far, the only casualties have been at the target. Never witnesses, never random hits, even when there were crowds in the area." The Knight Two Thousand signaled again and changed lanes, then swept around the cars blocking it...cars it could easily have forced out of the way or turbo boosted over. He followed its lead, not giving it a chance to slip away in traffic.

"So you believe some form of the original programming remains."

"That's what I'm hoping."

The Trans Am abruptly cut across three lanes of traffic for an off ramp, as if to make a liar out of him... except that the move was so perfectly timed that none of the drivers it cut off even laid on their horns. Mike swore and followed. "For outdated technology, your daddy's pretty good at this."

"As I have explained before, Michael, the Knight Two Thousand and I are in no way related. However, I share your surprise that such an antiquated system is capable of so complex and adaptive a strategy."

Back in the thinner traffic of the surface streets, the Trans Am picked up speed. "KITT, attack mode. And put up a map of the immediate area; I don't want to risk losing it down some side street."

It quickly became obvious that the car was heading out of the city, toward the open desert. They raced past darkened residential neighborhoods, neither car going above one hundred miles per hour until they reached the interstate, empty road spooling out into open desert.

"KITT, ready EMP."

"Michael, my scans indicate that while many of the Knight Two Thousand's systems are fully operational, there are several showing signs of degradation, probably from his long period of inactivity. The EMP device may cause irreparable damage."

"Yeah, I really care. Unless you have a better idea, ready the EMP."

KITT was silent for such a brief moment that Mike thought he might have imagined it, with most of his attention on the car ahead of them. "Readying EMP device."

The Trans Am vanished.

"KITT?"

The HUD lit up with a night vision display of the road ahead, the Trans Am clearly visible as it pulled away. "The road ahead is clear; he's shut down all lights and is navigating via scanner."

Mike swore under his breath and floored the accelerator. Now that there were no competing headlights blinding his night vision, he thought he saw a shadowy shape, black on black at the edge of KITT's headlights, beyond the digital phantom KITT was projecting for him.

"Why aren't we gaining on him?" he complained, pushing down a little harder even though there was nowhere for the pedal to go.

"Apparently, his engine is not one of the degraded systems."

"Very funny. Are we close enough for the EMP?"

"Yes, but…"

"Activate."

Again, that brief hesitation. "EMP deployed."

* * *

"Damn it!"

"Now what?"

"KITT's gone!" She typed a few commands, then her hands dropped away from the keyboard. "Every system just shut down simultaneously."

Michael didn't like the sound of that. "Like someone turned him off?"

Bonnie shook her head slowly. "The way I had the homing beacon set up, that wouldn't have stopped it."

She was shaking, Michael realized, and wrapped his arms around her even as his brain refused to believe what she was saying. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay."

No way in hell was he going to believe they could get this close, and lose KITT now. No way in hell.

* * *

The Trans Am came into the field of KITT's headlights, drifting slightly to the right as momentum carried it forward at incredible speed. Mike slowed, matching the other car's speed, half afraid it would recover and suddenly shoot off into the night.

The passenger side tires touched the gravel shoulder of the road. The softer surface yanked the car sideways; it flipped into the air, hitting the ground on its roof and rolling another hundred yards before it finally came to rest on one side.

"Wow." Mike stopped KITT beside the smaller vehicle; in the bright gleam of KITT's headlights, it was evident that beneath the heavy coating of dirt and bits of brush, the car wasn't even scratched. "Guess they weren't joking about the indestructible shell, huh?"

"I do not understand why you would think anyone would joke about that, Michael."

"Never mind. Scan it and make sure it's not just playing possum, and then call Sarah."

"To inform her that our mission of stopping the Knight Two Thousand was successful?"

"No, to ask her how we're supposed to get this thing back to base."

It took the better part of an hour - time Mike spent watching the Trans Am, alert for any sign of the systems coming back on - before Sarah was able to upload the newest transformation protocol into KITT. After that, it was just a matter of rocking the Trans Am back onto its wheels, and hooking it up to the obnoxiously shiny black and chrome tow truck KITT had turned into.

During the trip to the SSC, a single system activated, unnoticed, in the otherwise dormant vehicle.


	6. Reunion

The computer beeped. "Thank god." Bonnie pulled away from Michael's embrace, and despite the situation, Michael smiled. It was a good thing any romantic inclination he'd had toward her had faded to friendship years before, while they still worked for the Foundation, because otherwise, he would have been really jealous of KITT's monopoly on her attention. "The homing beacon is back on, but none of his other systems appear to be active." Relief warred with worry in Bonnie's tone.

Michael stared over her shoulder at the monitor. "He's moving?"

"Not under his own power, but yes." Bonnie pulled out her cell phone, and after a few moments it was echoing the soft beeping from her computer. "Come on, we can track him on the move."

"Bonnie, neither one of us has had any sleep to speak of in days. This is not the time to go after him."

"Then when is the time?" Bonnie snapped. "We don't know what just happened, and we don't know who has him. I'm not waiting for things to get worse." Her shoulders slumped. "They're bad enough already."

"I'm just saying..." Michael sighed. "One of us should sleep while the other drives."

* * *

KITT waited just inside the massive double entry doors to the SSC while the Trans Am was unhooked, then returned to his default form and moved out of the way. The other car's dimensions were all wrong for the gimbal, but they rolled it into position anyway; Lisa and Katie were modifying the gimbal to hold the smaller car in place. Zoe and Michael were occupied with overseeing the process, while Sarah and Billy connected it to the computers to monitor.

KITT monitored their captive, as well. The Knight Two Thousand showed no signs of coming back online, and he analyzed the data he had on the other car, running lightning-fast simulations. They all confirmed his estimate that, barring serious damage beyond his ability to detect, the Knight Two Thousand should have come online during the trip back.

Later, when the Trans Am was fully restrained and connected to the computers via an array of cables, and the humans had taken a break a break, KITT rolled closer to the gimbal, nearly touching the deactivated car within.

* * *

"KITT's stopped," Bonnie muttered groggily from the passenger seat.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I was."

"And tracking KITT at the same time."

She woke up enough to shoot him a dirty look, and turned her attention to her phone. "That's strange."

"What is?"

"He's stopped in the middle of nowhere."

"The middle of nowhere isn't always the middle of nowhere, if you get what I mean."

"I know. That's what worries me."

They were approaching one of the little towns that dotted the desert, scattered along the highways connecting California to the rest of the southwestern states. "You want coffee?"

She nodded, still intent on whatever she was doing.

Michael spotted a Starbucks sign and took the corresponding off ramp. The place was surprisingly crowded, given that there were only a dozen other businesses in this town, if that, and he half expected Bonnie to take off with the car before he got back outside. Instead, she was sitting quietly, and the look she gave him when he got in made him feel a little sick.

"What's wrong?" he asked, fully expecting her to report that KITT had vanished again.

"The middle of nowhere is somewhere, all right. An abandoned research lab."

"Okay. At least it's not a military base, right?"

"It's owned by Knight Research and Development."

Michael stared at her while the pieces clicked into place. Then he laughed.

"What?"

"Bonnie," he said, unable to stop grinning, "I think I know what was chasing KITT last night."

"_What_?" she asked, more insistently.

"KITT."

She scowled at him. "Michael, have you lost..."

"The Knight Industries _Three _Thousand."

The scowl turned to something colder, harder. "Three Thousand," she repeated slowly. "They built another car?"

Michael's good humor fled. "Yeah."

"And you didn't think it was important to _tell _me about it?"

"In case you haven't noticed, we've been a little preoccupied lately!" And he hadn't thought of it. Hadn't wanted to think about it, honestly, since seeing the look in his son's eyes over a year before.

"Who was behind it?"

He hedged, knowing that under the circumstances, she wouldn't like the answer. "A lot of good people were involved."

"Michael!"

"It was built by Knight Research and Development," Michael said, "but with oversight by the FBI and NSA." She opened her mouth to say something, and he continued, "But I don't think they're the ones behind what's been happening with KITT."

"That doesn't matter if they're the ones who have him now!"

"The project was shut down months ago." He tried not to consider the timing too carefully; he didn't want to know if KITT's reappearance coincided with the shutdown. "Whoever took him to that lab probably doesn't have government backing."

"I hope to hell you're right." Bonnie dropped her gaze, playing with the phone in her hands.

"Does it really make a difference?" Michael started the car. "I mean, we're going after KITT no matter what, right?"

Bonnie shot him a defiant look. "Just try to stop me. Especially now."

* * *

The sun was moving toward midday when Michael stopped his car some fifty feet back from a tall chain link fence. "Man, now is one of those times I really wish we had KITT," he said, studying the fence surrounding the Knight Research building.

"If we had KITT, we wouldn't need to be here," Bonnie said dryly. She looked better after having slept for most of the drive, but still tired, the kind of tired Michael felt, bone-deep, in himself.

They had to get KITT back. After all these months, all the searching...failure was not an option.

"Good point."

"It looks like it really is abandoned."

"It does. Only there aren't enough locks." Michael pointed to the main gate. "If they really wanted to keep people out, they'd have a padlock and chain on that, rather than relying on the opener's locking mechanism." He grinned at her. "I can't imagine it'd be too hard to override that."

"And what do we do when we trip the inevitable alarm?"

"We hope the place is as abandoned as it looks."

Bonnie shook her head. "Is this how you always operated? No wonder KITT always came back from missions in such awful shape."

"Now hold on a minute, KITT was the indestructible one. I was the one who kept jacking up the Foundation's insurance rates."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Michael; you did plenty of damage," she retorted, and Michael would have thought she was serious if not for the affectionate exasperation in her voice. "Now...where do we start."

Michael could think of a dozen places to start - scanning the building's occupants, analyzing the alarms, checking for hidden weapons and cameras all at the top of the list, with 'just drive through' and 'jump over' somewhat lower down - if he had KITT. Instead, he reached into the back seat for his toolbox. "I'll be right back."

* * *

"What if we power it up manually?" Billy asked, still munching on a muffin.

Zoe raised her eyebrows at him. "Without seeing what kind of damage the EMP caused?"

"We aren't doing anything until we figure out why the system hasn't rebooted on its own," Sarah called from inside the Trans Am.

Mike settled on KITT's hood, watching the others argue. "What do you think?"

"I think the Knight Two Thousand should have resumed operation five point five eight hours ago. My scans indicate no damage which would have prevented him from doing so."

"You did say it was old when we were chasing it. Maybe we just broke it."

"If we had 'broken' him, I would be detecting damage. I already stated that I am not."

"Okay, okay." Mike gave him a look. "Snippy."

"Mike, get back over here; we need an extra pair of hands," Sarah shouted before KITT could reply.

With a rolling shrug and theatrical groan, Mike returned to the group.

They were all so intent on the car sitting dormant that none of them noticed the blinking light on the base's security display. KITT left them to what they were doing, accessing the relevant cameras.

Two humans were attempting to enter the base. It did not appear to be a planned assault; they were unarmed, dressed in civilian clothing, and working with no more than common mechanic's tools. KITT zoomed in on them and ran his image analyzer to identify them.

A moment later, the gate slid open, and the blinking light on the security panel went dark.

* * *

He came online with a rush, engine revving before his sensors came back online, struggling to regain the speed he had, somehow, lost. It was part of his primary program, the imperative that he not be caught, not give up any of the General's secrets.

He had no traction. His tires spun, uselessly.

Turbo boost. If he could just...

There was no response. A hasty diagnostic revealed it had been disabled, but when? There were systems which had never been deemed important enough for repair, but turbo boost was not one of them; the General would never send him out with such a vital function offline.

He had lost time as well as speed, he realized, been shut down without ever knowing what hit him. As systems came back online, he realized he had no traction because he was suspended, helpless, clamps holding his frame tight to a device of unknown purpose.

His engine revved again, despite the futility. He could not be caught. He could not give up any of the General's secrets. That programming was beyond his conscious control; indeed, the need to flee nearly overwhelmed any conscious thought.

With an effort, he focused past his useless struggles and scanned the area. A large indoor area, filled with electronics, but with only a handful of humans. Cables snaking into his systems...

They were passively collecting data from him, and he hadn't even _noticed_.

He shut that down, locked all of his systems tight against intrusion. If they wanted information, they would have to fight him for it.

He wondered which of their systems controlled the clamps holding him in place. His microwave jammer was still online; he could use that to disrupt their computers, and hopefully, free himself.

One of them was trying to hack past the defenses he had put in place. They were good, and he couldn't fight back; damage reports began streaming in as he tried. What had they done to him?

His tires howled as they spun against air, the need to escape gaining a new imperative. He let the flight subroutine have its way, shut down most of his sensors, and focused on keeping the intruders out.

He _would not_ give up any of the General's secrets.

* * *

"He's fighting back hard," Billy said.

Mike rolled his eyes a little at the obviousness of the statement, since the Trans Am was almost vibrating its way free of the gimbal. "You guys can override it though, right? I mean, this car's almost thirty years old."

"The defense protocols are amazing." Sarah sounded impressed. Not really the best sign.

"The whole car's amazing." Zoe had gone beyond impressed to awed. "He's got tricks even KITT doesn't know."

"So are you saying we chased it down for nothing?" Well, not for nothing, he guessed, since at least it wasn't out on the streets killing people, but he hadn't gone after it just so they could shut it down and store it in the basement.

"Oh, we'll get through, don't worry. It just might take a little longer than we..."

A recorded voice interrupted Sarah. "Tunnel doors opening."

"What the hell?" Billy shifted his attention from the car to the security system. "Damn it! We have two intruders in the tunnel."

"How could they have gotten in without setting off the perimeter alarms?" Sarah abandoned her workstation to join Billy at his.

"Someone shut them off."

"Guys," Zoe broke in, "did anyone notice this car has an active homing device?"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"So we've been broadcasting our location for hours now?" Billy's voice held an edge of hysteria.

Mike looked at KITT, then left the buzz of activity to join the car. "KITT," he chided, "do you know anything about this?"

"The perimeter alarms achieved first-stage activation while the rest of you were otherwise occupied," the car replied calmly. "I determined there was no threat and deactivated them."

"Tunnel doors opening," the recorded alert repeated, and this time it was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of the massive doors beginning to slide apart.

"Can't we override whatever they've done?" Sarah demanded from behind him.

"Too much of the system is occupied with the Knight Two Thousand!"

"Our guests did nothing untoward to gain entry," KITT continued, seemingly oblivious to the commotion his actions had provoked. "I transmitted the code to allow them to enter the tunnel."

Mike slammed a fist on KITT's hood. "Damn it, KITT, you can't just go letting random people into the base!"

"I assure you, Michael, this decision was not random, and there is no reason to believe our guests are a threat. In fact, I believe they may prove to be quite helpful."

"KITT, have you forgotten just how much 'help' we've already gotten? We don't need strangers..."

"One of them," KITT interrupted, "is not a stranger."

"KITT, there's only one person who could walk through that door and not piss me off, and he's dead. So whoever you're letting in here..."

Mike broke off as the harsher light from the tunnel cut through the cool light of the control room. Two figures stood silhouetted against the light for a moment, then continued far enough into the room that he could see their faces.

The woman, he didn't know. As for the man...

"Well, fuck."

* * *

Michael winced as Mike's voice carried clearly across the space between them. Not that he had really hoped for anything else; not that he had the _right _to hope for anything else. His mistakes might have been made with the best of intentions, but they hadn't hurt Mike any the less for it, and one awkward conversation couldn't make up for that.

He wondered if a lifetime would be enough to make up for it.

He tried to put it out of his mind. His relationship - or lack of one - with Mike was what it was, and it wouldn't be fixed quickly or easily. In the meantime, KITT needed him.

He swallowed hard, his gaze moving past Mike and the menacing-looking car he leaned against, to the car suspended behind them. A fine coating of dust dulled KITT's shell and darkened his windows, but aside from that he looked perfect, his sleek lines exactly as Michael remembered. He had been immobilized on a device clearly meant for the bulkier form of the Knight Industries Three Thousand, and while Michael knew enough about the project to know exactly what the gimbal was for, it still looked, to his eyes, like some sort of medieval torture device.

Or like KITT was a science project ready for dissection.

Michael circled slowly, aware that the whine he heard wasn't from KITT's turbine engine, but was rather the sound of his tires spinning uselessly, unable to gain purchase on empty air. KITT was being held at an angle, so that his sensor light was at Michael's chest level when he finally finished circling and came a stop.

"Would either of you like to tell us what you're doing here?" a woman who could only be Charles Graiman's daughter, Sarah, demanded.

Thank god Bonnie took over with the introductions and explanations, because Michael only had eyes for KITT.

"Hey, pal," he said softly, his hand stroking the hood directly above the red sensor light. With the dust wiped away, KITT gleamed like new. "Bet you just about gave up on seeing me again, huh?" No answer, no sign that KITT had even heard him, and he pressed, "Come on, I know I took my sweet time finding you, and I know you can hold a grudge like nobody's business, but you have to at least give me a chance to explain what happened."

Nothing. Nothing but the frantic sound of KITT's engine, the desperate spinning of his wheels.

On top of it, there was something - something beyond the entire situation - bothering Michael, but he was distracted by the conversation behind him, as Bonnie and Sarah conferred. He found himself brushing away the dust, as if restoring KITT's exterior would somehow help them regain _him_.

Finally, Bonnie joined him, standing close enough that their arms touched. "KITT," she said, in a voice that shook only a little. "Identify yourself."

"I am the voice of the microprocessor of the Knight Industries Two Thousand. K-I-T-T. KITT, if you prefer," the car responded, the familiar voice - even if it was merely speaking a pre-programmed identification - making Michael's throat close with the shear normalcy of it. "Property of the United States Armed Forces."

_Property_. That made Michael's throat close for an entirely different reason.

Bonnie must have had the same problem, because it was several moments before she asked, "And can you identify me?"

The scanner kept up its slow, steady sweep, and finally Michael figured out the final piece of what was bothering him. To those who knew him well, KITT's scanner had always been a barometer of his mood. His tires were still spinning as he fought helplessly for freedom; his engine was snarling with effort; the scanner should have been whipping back and forth like the tail of an angry cat, not sluggishly crawling from side to side.

"Dr. Barstow, Bonnie," KITT replied after a moment. He began listing Bonnie's various degrees and awards, working back from the present day, then - again in reverse chronological order - her jobs. His voice slowed as he said, "Employed: Knight Industries, 1979-1982. Employed: Foundation..." His voice faltered. "Foundation for..."

"Continue." Michael didn't think he'd ever heard Bonnie use that tone - detached, commanding - with KITT, and wondered just how scared she was. How scared _he _should be.

The scanner sped up, finally revealing KITT's agitation.

"Employed: Foundation for Law and Government, 1982-1983, 1984-1991," he finally managed.

"And what was my job, KITT?" Bonnie pressed.

"Position: Head technician..." The scanner flared, lit nearly from end to end. Behind him, Michael could hear Sarah issuing orders, muttered comments tossed back and forth. He suspected if he were willing to turn around, he'd see Sarah and the two techs he didn't know all hard at work at the computers KITT was connected to.

He wasn't willing to turn.

"Position: Head technician assigned to the Knight Industries Tw..."

KITT's voice stopped mid-word; the scanner flared again, then froze, faded, a single point of light pulsing slowly in place like a heartbeat.

Bonnie made a noise and pushed away from Michael, turning toward the activity he could hear behind him. He still didn't look, but he could easily picture her taking over, fingers flying across a keyboard faster than he could follow. It was something he'd seen far too many times over the past months.

He kept his gaze on that pulsing, flickering light, and while Bonnie did what she was best at, he did the only thing he could do.

"KITT?" He stepped closer, planting his hands on KITT's hood, one on either side of the frozen sensor, close enough that he couldn't see the light, just its reflection against his chest. KITT's engine had stilled, and the whine was fading as his tires slowed; Michael wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Hey, pal, since when can't you answer a simple question, huh?" His voice dropped. "I know you remember us. Somewhere, under whatever crap they did to you, you remember."

The light pulsed, reflecting off his dust-smudged white shirt like blood.

"It's going to be okay, buddy. You just hang in there. Bonnie's still the best."

The tires finally ran down their momentum; the faint vibration they'd been sending through the car stopped.

The bloody reflection on his shirt was fading to pink.

Behind him, Bonnie swore, the kind of language he would never have believed she knew if he hadn't seen KITT threatened before. He didn't understand the conversation going on, rapid fire, between her and the others, but when he raised his eyes, he understood the look in his son's, meeting his gaze with the two most advanced cars in the world between them.

"Come on, KITT," he muttered, dropping his gaze again. "KITT? KITT!"

The pink reflection on his shirt was gone. He stared numbly for a minute, then whirled to search for Bonnie.

She was white faced and intent on the computer in front of her, surrounded by people working just as feverishly, as if they'd done this a thousand times instead of just this once.

"Got it!" Not Bonnie, but the Asian woman whose name he'd never caught.

"Transfer it to..." Bonnie didn't even have to finish the sentence.

"Power's stabilizing; system's coming back online," the man said, a trace of nerves in his voice.

"Monitor it." Sarah and Bonnie, in stereo.

Behind him, Michael heard a sound. He turned, half afraid it had been his imagination.

KITT's scanner tracked with painful slowness from one side to the other.

"KITT?"

An agonizing moment of silence. Then...

"Michael?"


End file.
